


Nocturnal Illumination

by thespiritualmultinerd



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Developing Friendship, Developing Relationship, Early days of Baker Street, Gen, Holmes is in a mood, Insecure Holmes, Johnlock - Freeform, London, M/M, Moonlight, Pre-Relationship, Stargazing, Watson being supportive, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespiritualmultinerd/pseuds/thespiritualmultinerd
Summary: A walk on a moonlit November night gives Watson new insight into the character of Sherlock Holmes.





	Nocturnal Illumination

The nature of my friend and fellow lodger Mr Sherlock Holmes is one of an ever-changing kind, so much I have come to realise during the many months that I have now shared rooms with him. Some days his spirits are high, energetic, mischievous even. Other days see a darker mood, with an apathy difficult to imagine in such an otherwise vibrant person. A sunny day in November had been such a day. From breakfast time to late afternoon he had stayed in his bedroom behind a closed door, and when he finally came out it was only to aimlessly wander about the sitting room, picking up his Strad and putting it down again, taking a book from the bookcase and abandoning it on the floor, and finally flinging himself into his chair where he remained in silent contemplation. I had given up any chance of communication, knowing that if there even was a response it would not be a pleasant one (I had learned this lesson a number of times already), and after a few hours’ work of putting our latest adventure down on paper I comfortably sat down in my own chair and immersed myself in a good novel. I was therefore startled when some time after the strike of ten it came from across the room:

“She is lovely, Watson.”

I looked up. Holmes was half lying in his chair, leaned on the armrest, and looking out the window so that his profile was turned to me. His pose resembled a young maiden gazing longingly into the distance, waiting for her loved one to return. 

“Holmes?”

“The moon.”

“Ah.”

Not sure whether this was a loose remark or if he had something more to say, I waited a few moments, but when he only continued to look out the window I turned my attention back on the novel. However, a minute later he spoke again:

“The stars are remarkably bright tonight, extraordinarily so... I don’t quite remember the last time I saw stars this bright in London.

Patiently I closed the book, keeping my thumb in it as a bookmark, and looked up with a smile.

“Well, it has been a very clear day. Cold too, I believe.”

“Hm.”

He did not smile, but I could see that his features were more relaxed and his eyes softer than they had been all day. I was just about to make a remark upon his mood having improved, when he swiftly swung himself up from the chair and made his way towards his bedroom. 

“I am going out, Watson”, he said promptly. “Will you come with me?”

I turned in my chair, confused.

“To the club?”

“No,” he said as he entered the bedroom, “out for a walk.”

I looked at the clock on the wall and then at the fire that was burning pleasantly in the hearth. My thumb was still stuck between the pages of my book and the dressing gown I had already worn for several hours felt soft and warm on my body.

“You better hurry up in that case, Watson,” Holmes said from behind the half-closed door. “I will be ready in a few minutes.”

I hesitated for another second or two before I rose, found a proper bookmark for my book and went into my own room to get dressed. The company of my friend was after all more alluring than the comfort of our rooms and besides, though he kept a casual tone I suspected he craved my company as well. I could always finish my book later.

Within ten minutes I therefore presented myself fully dressed at the top of the stairs where Holmes stood waiting for me, and with a wave of his walking stick he lead the way down the stairs and out onto the street. The air was biting cold as I had predicted, clear and fresh, and filled with that special smoky scent you only encounter during the winter months. Holmes breathed in loudly through his beak-like nose and turned his face towards the black heavens, taking it all in for a moment before laying a pair of twinkling eyes on me and offering me his arm.

“Come, Doctor,” he said with a smile. “Let’s find out what this wonderful night has to offer.”

Affected by this unexpectedly bright mood I happily accepted, and together we wandered the nearly deserted streets. The city was unusually peaceful and our footsteps were the only sounds to break the silence, save for the occasional cab or the barking of a street dog. Holmes walked quietly beside me, every trace of apprehension gone, with a quiet air of anticipation radiating from him. At last we made our way in to the park, where the moon shone even brighter in the lack of streetlights. On a small bridge by the water Holmes stopped and we both rested our arms on the railing, admiring the scenery before us. The sky was truly remarkably clear, with a million stars spread out across the infinite darkness, twinkling and sparkling like diamonds. Like a queen the moon watched over the scene, blindingly white and not quite full, leaving silver in the water and dark shadows among the trees.

We stood there for a while in silence, side by side, entranced by the beauty of the night. At last I stole a glance at Holmes. His profile was lit by moonlight like an actor by the stage light, flawless from the heavy brow to the sharp chin. In his dark overcoat and with his milky skin and black hair he matched the setting perfectly. His eyes imitated the stars.

 _A creature of the night_ , I thought as he leaned further over the railing, the beginning of a smile pursing his lips.

“It is remarkable,” he said in his silky voice. “A night like this seem endless of possibilities. The day can be suffocating, mercilessly exposing us to the trivial things in life, forcing a reality upon us that we are to take as the virtue of our existence. When in reality –“

He took a deep breath and sighed it out heavily, searching the skies with wonder in his eyes.

“ – daylight is rather blinding than revealing. This is the true face of our world – the entire universe, laid out for us to see.”

I smiled and followed his gaze. Millions of stars, yet I knew there were many more hidden in that black vastness.

“I don’t believe it is the _entire_ universe that is visible to our eyes, Holmes.”

He diverted his eyes from the stars and gave me a tender smile.

“No,” he said softly. “But it gives us an idea of what there is to discover.”

I could not help but return his smile. I had known him to be gentle before, and to be drawn to ideas of a romantic nature (no matter how unwilling he was to admit it), but now there was something so human about the way his eyes softened, something so private about his smile – so very far from his usual authoritative and refined manner – and I suddenly felt as if I had found a secret compartment of his character. He had given me another piece of the great puzzle that he was, and as I put it into place he cleared a bit before my eyes.

We remained for some moments, speaking without words. Then a thoughtful look came upon his face. His smile faded and his brow furrowed, and he placed a gloved hand upon my own.

“I hope I don’t hurt you with my dark episodes, my dear boy,” he said apologetically.

“Not at all,” I quickly assured.

He gave me a half-smile and looked away.

“I know I am difficult to live with,” he said quietly, “and you are the last person to make any complaints. But I want you to know I am sorry, and that I never mean you any harm.”

Taken aback by this sudden sincerity I only looked at him for a moment. He was the last person I would have imagined to feel any sort of insecurity; yet here he was, with shame upon his face and a hint of fear in the way his lips were pressed together tightly. I took his hand in a resolute grip between both of mine and turned so that I was facing him.

“My dear Holmes,” I said and waited until he met my eye. “You are not causing me any harm. Quite the opposite. And if you ever do, I will let you know. But don’t you worry about being anything but yourself around me.”

He seemed surprised at my last words, as if he never could have imagined such a thing. I pressed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. To my relief he returned it, and the shadow on his face lifted – I could even have sworn I saw a faint blush on his white cheeks. For a minute we lingered there with the stars smiling so kindly at us, before a shiver ran through me and Holmes placed his free hand gently on my arm.

“I have kept you in the cold long enough, Watson. What do you say we go home and make ourselves comfortable in front of the fire? I believe I have a fine bottle of cognac hidden somewhere, and if you like I will play your favourite melodies for you.”

I could have told him that the affection in his voice and his obvious attempt at making up for his whims warmed me better than any fire. Instead I gladly agreed, and as we began the walk back to our rooms he pressed my arm firmly to his side, and I believe I felt his heart a little closer to mine.


End file.
